


Breaking the Cycle

by KatonRyu



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Gen, alternative ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25059841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatonRyu/pseuds/KatonRyu
Summary: Alternative ending to Last of Us 2. The confrontation at the theater goes slightly differently than it did in canon, and subsequent events change accordingly. Lots of swearing, surprisingly little violence.
Kudos: 29





	1. The Theater

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically just my own alternative version of the ending of The Last of Us 2. I really, really feel like Naughty Dog went way too far in punishing Ellie for her drive for revenge, and that they screwed up the storytelling in the process. This fic, while using scenes from the game, goes down very differently. I wrote this in one sitting in the middle of the night, so it’s not exactly a polished story, but I wanted to write it all the same. I’m curious as to what you think about it, though bear in mind I’m nowhere near as good as Naughty Dog is at writing character moments.

Jesse is dead. Tommy is being held at gunpoint. By Abby. How the fuck did she even find us here?! I think of Dina, who is still hidden backstage.

“Toss your weapon,” she commands.

“Don’t you listen, Ellie, don’t you dare…” Tommy says.

I hesitate. Maybe if I’m quick enough…

“Shut up!”

Abby violently kicks Tommy in the head, and he rolls over with a groan, out cold.

“Toss your weapon!” she repeats, aiming her weapon at the unconscious Tommy.

“Fuck!”

I throw the pistol away. My thoughts are racing. I don’t particularly care what happens to me, as long as Tommy and Dina can get out of this alive. I have to stall her, no matter what.

“I know why you killed Joel. He did what he did to save me. There’s no cure because of me. I’m the one that you want. Just let him go.”

Her expression loses its edge, briefly, but it’s not even two seconds before the hatred comes back into those cold eyes.

“You killed my friends…” she says. “We let you both live and you wasted it!”

She aims her gun at me, and it’s like time slows down to a crawl. I don’t know how or why, but there’s the tiniest hint of hesitation in her. For a single, solitary instant she doesn’t pull the trigger. I dive to my right and down, taking cover behind the counter just a microsecond before it explodes into shrapnel when Abby finally does open fire.

I yank Joel’s revolver from its holster on my hip, feeling sick but also grimly satisfied that it will be _his_ weapon that’s going to end this bitch’s life. Still, I can’t get ahead of myself. I need her to focus all of her attention on me, before she decides to shoot Tommy first instead of going directly after me.

If I come out from behind the counter she’ll kill me immediately, so instead I simply point the revolver over the shattered counter and fire a single shot. I know it’s not going to hit her. It doesn’t have to. All I want it to do is get her attention focused on me.

But I can’t stay here to find out if it worked, I have to move. I dash through the door into the theater itself, staying low to give her as little target as possible. I flinch when the door just next to my head explodes in a cloud of splinters, but at least that means that her attention is on me and not Tommy. I know she had that kid with her, but I can’t worry about him right now. All I can do is hope that the kid isn’t cold-blooded enough to execute Tommy while Abby deals with me.

I run between down the aisle between the seats, glancing over my shoulder to see if Abby is following me. The moment I see the doors opening, I fire another shot. Just keep her busy. Make sure she comes after me. I’ll be the one to fucking kill her, and then we can finally go back to Jackson.

I climb onto the stage, standing up straight just to taunt her.

“Come on then, you bitch!” I yell, firing another shot at the row of seats I know she’s crouching behind.

It’s a wild shot, again not really meant to hit her as much as lure her away from Tommy. I don’t stand around waiting for her, and I quickly slip between the curtains then run through the heavy sliding door and draw it shut behind me. Hopefully she’ll be following me.

I’ve got three shots left in the revolver, and I don’t dare to reload it right now. From this point onwards, every bullet is going to count. The only way to get in here is through the sliding door, but there’s no way she’ll be stupid enough to come waltzing in without checking the surroundings first. If I stand out in the open and begin shooting the moment the door opens, I’m fucked. What then? Hide around the corner and whack her over the head with a piece of wood? She’s built like a brick shithouse and she’s on her guard, there’s no way that would work.

In my head, I hear the echo of Joel’s voice. _You’re too impulsive, kiddo. It’s fine to be brave, but at least try to be clever about it._

Fuck, if I’d only listened to him back then I might have been able to save him. I won’t make the same mistake again. There’s an archway, probably part of some old set for a play. Maybe if I go through it and around, I can get a clear shot at the door. I’m barely behind the thin plywood that makes up the prop wall when I hear the door sliding open. Fuck, now I’m never going to be in time to get a good shot in! Fuck it, I have to try. One way or another, I am killing her right here. I tighten my grip on the revolver.

Despite my eyes being open, I can see Joel lying there…but then it’s suddenly Nora instead. And Owen and Mel.

No! I don’t have time to have a fucking nervous breakdown in the middle of a fucking fight! If I’m going to be a basket case when all this is over, at least I’ll be a basket case who’s avenged Joel’s death, dammit.

I quickly make my way over to the crate next to the prop wall and cautiously peer over it, just in time to see Abby looking around the corner, wary of an ambush. She’s looking to her left, away from me. This is my chance!

I quickly bring up the revolver, peer down the sight, squeeze the trigger…a miss, fuck! And just by a hair, too. The revolver has more kick to it than the smaller pistol and I’m not as experienced with it. I should’ve easily been able to make that shot.

Abby quickly throws herself back behind the door, and I know that I won’t get another shot right now. I can’t afford another miss here; I only have two shots left! There is another row of props in front of me, and I sneak forward to hide behind it. If my earlier shot lures her over in this direction, maybe I can still blindside her. But if I do, I’ll have to go for the kill with my switchblade. It’ll be too cramped to fire the gun. It wouldn’t have the same sweet justice to it as the revolver, but fuck it. Beggars can’t be choosers, after all.

I try to steady my breathing and wait for her to approach. I can hear the old floorboards creaking despite her attempts to be quiet. Guess all that muscle mass isn’t all good, huh? The creaking comes closer. One of the boards creaks particularly loudly, and I break cover, swinging my arm in a furious stabbing motion — and she easily catches my swing, grabs me, and slams me against the prop wall.

The air is knocked right out of my lungs, and I hear a loud crack. Did she break any of my bones? Another crack, and the floor caves in underneath us before Abby can get a killing blow in. The part of the floor she was standing on breaks slightly earlier than mine, and because she was still holding onto me I get pulled on top of her as we crash down, and she breaks my fall when she slams onto a wooden crate.

I roll off of her onto the ground, as does she, but while I’m still gasping for air and kind of bruised from the fall, Abby’s in a more serious state. She struggles to get back to her feet, and I pull out the revolver, which I’d holstered when I drew my switchblade. I have no idea where it is, but I’ll pick it up later.

This is it. Abby is stunned, bleeding from a gash in her forehead. I stand at a few paces from her, and there’s no way she’s in any state to lunge at me right now. I take aim, but I don’t fire. I want to look into her eyes. I want to see her fear before I put an end to this once and for all. She finally looks up. I can see the glint of fear behind her mask of hatred, and I feel fire rushing through me. Finally, Joel’s killer is going to face justice. All I need to do is pull the trigger.

She glares at me. She knows she’s lost. “Spare the kid,” she says stonily.

“You don’t get to make any fucking demands here,” I snarl.

“He has nothing to do with it,” she says, pleadingly now.

“I don’t fucking care!” I scream.

Why don’t I just pull the fucking trigger? What the fuck is wrong with me?! Isn’t this why I came all this fucking way? Went through all this shit?! If I just shoot her, all of this will be over. But…will it really? If I kill her, how will I be different from her? What’s to prevent the kid she has with her from coming after me next? Or Tommy? Or, worst of all, Dina? If I kill Abby now…what does it solve? It won’t bring Joel back. Again, I see Nora’s bloody and broken body. I see Owen and Mel, and even their fucking dog. I see Mel’s pregnancy and think of Dina. The thought of her getting killed, of her _child_ getting killed before it’s even born, perhaps…

“FUCK!”

I pull the trigger…and the floorboards next to Abby explode. I glare at her, furious tears blurring my vision.

“Get the fuck out of my sight,” I say through gritted teeth, still keeping the revolver aimed at her.

I have one more shot. I could still…

“I’m not going to fucking tell you again!” I shout when Abby doesn’t immediately spring into motion. “Get lost! Fuck off! Go fucking die somewhere out in the fucking world! Just get the fuck away from me, and if you ever come anywhere near me or Jackson ever again I am going to fucking feed you to a fucking clicker!”

This time, Abby seems to be startled into motion, and she runs away clumsily, still staggering and swaying from her fall. She barrels through the storage room door, and I just stare dumbly after her. I slowly sink to my knees when I’m certain she’s gone. What the fuck have I just done?


	2. The Farm

I never would have guessed it, but the seat of a tractor can be a pretty comfortable place. The warmth of a late afternoon sun, a soft breeze, a little Potato softly wiggling in my arms. If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think the world is a pretty beautiful place. Then again, I guess it’s quite easy to think that when you’re living in the middle of nowhere with your girlfriend and your Potato.

“Hey, little buddy, one of these days I’m going to teach you how to play guitar,” I say.

Potato looks up at me, as if he’s trying to tell me something.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, your hands are too small. But hey, best to start early, right?”

He coos, and I melt inside. He kind of looks like Jesse. Only without blood coming from his head.

No. Nope. Do not go there, Ellie, that is _not_ a good place.

Potato seems to notice something’s wrong, or something, because he gives me this quizzical look.

“I’m okay, spud. Just a bit of a nutcase. Come on, let’s go check on Mama.”

I get up from the tractor seat, shoot one last glance at the beautiful sunset, then walk back to the farm. It still feels kind of odd. Our talk of living on a farm had really just been talk, when we were in Seattle. And now, it’s reality. As if we’ve just left the world behind and retreated to our own little paradise. But it’s not like everything is perfect. How could it be? Abby is still out there, because I couldn’t kill her.

Not that Tommy knows that. I told him that she just managed to escape. I just…I couldn’t tell him the truth. I don’t think Dina liked me lying to him like that, but I can barely justify my mercy to myself, let alone to him.

And the dreams…the dreams just don’t go away. I hoped they would, in time, but it’s been more than a year, and I still wake up screaming at least once a week. Most of the time it’s Joel, begging for mercy before being snuffed out. Sometimes it’s Jesse blaming me for getting him killed, talking to me with blood streaming from the wound in his head. Sometimes it’s Nora’s mangled body, standing on shattered legs and deeply infected by the spores she’d inhaled before her death. Sometimes it’s Owen and Mel, or their horribly deformed and bloody unborn child.

I can feel my breathing getting shallower just thinking about it, and I quickly take one deep breath to clear my mind. This is exactly what I mean. Even living here with everything I could ever want, I’m still not free. I doubt I’ll _ever_ be free.

Dina is hanging the laundry. From inside, I can still hear the record I put on earlier, so I stand behind her and put one hand on her hip, swaying with her in time to the music. She lets me for a moment, then gently pushes me back. She smiles at me. I think Dina might be the only person in the world who actually believes I did the right thing in letting Abby leave that theater. If I didn’t love her so much already, I would because of that alone.

I walk over the fence of our little sheep enclosure, and allow Potato to pet a small lamb.

“Here, I’ll take him,” Dina says. “Can you round up the sheep?”

“It’s okay, I got him,” I reply.

I can’t really explain it, but Potato is something of a good luck charm to me. It feels good to hold him. I don’t want to give him up just yet.

“You sure?” Dina asks.

I nod. “Yep, no problem.”

She gives me the carrying strap, and I gently strap Potato to my body. “Alright, spud, let’s go catch some sheep,” I say.

He makes happy noises, so I’m going to assume he’s okay with it.

“Listen up, sheep! Your dinner awaits you in the barn, so…come on…”

Not a particularly eloquent speech, I guess, but it’s not like I have much of an audience.

“Snowy, Daisy, Ewe-gene, barn time, you guys,” I say, greeting each sheep as I walk by, gently leading them towards the barn.

Fortunately for me, the sheep are pretty willing to go along with me today, and it doesn’t take me very long to get all of them rounded up. I close the gate.

“Okay, guys, see you tomorrow.”

At the back of the barn, I hear a noise, and I look up to see a small lamb hiding behind a spade and a rake.

“How’d you get out?”

I walk over to the lamb and reach out my hand. “Come on, little dude.”

The lamb startles and runs off, knocking over the spade and the rake, which hit the metal bucket next to them.

Joel, his head covered in blood, flashes before my eyes, and I jerkily pull my hand back.

Fuck. Why now?

Potato is startled as well, but in his case it’s probably just from the noise. I try to calm myself down and look at the lamb, which is now standing in the open barn doors. Dust swirls up around the doors as the wind picks up.

“Don’t you want to eat, little guy?” I ask, trying again to approach the lamb.

He really doesn’t seem to like me, or something, because he just hops out of the doors.

“You fluffy little shit…” I mutter under my breath, then add, “Don’t tell Mama I said a bad word, okay?”

The door slams shut. Everything around me is dark. Just like that basement. Just like that day.

_Ellie! Help me!_

I can hear the screams. Again. Blood under the door.

“No, no, no…”

Not again. No. Please. He keeps screaming. I can hear the pain in his voice but the door won’t open and I can get in and he’s going to die again and there’s nothing I can do and why won’t this fucking door open please fucking help me fucking do something…

“Ellie! Hey, Ellie!”

I look up. There’s light. There’s Dina. Potato is crying. I think I am, too. I don’t know. What the fuck is going on with me?!

“Look at me, Ellie. It’s okay. You’re home, you’re home,” Dina says.

I try to slow down my breathing, try to focus on the present.

“Breathe, breathe,” Dina encourages me.

My breathing isn’t slowing down one bit. “I can’t. I can’t,” I say softly.

I only vaguely notice her taking Potato from me and consoling him as I just sit there on the floor of the barn, trying to get me breathing back under control. At some point Dina sits down next to me, and all I can do is wonder how long this is going to last.

* * *

I walk back to the farm, carrying the rabbit I managed to catch with me like a trophy. In a way, it _is_ a trophy, since I managed to shoot it without going into a full-on nervous breakdown at the sound of the shot. Go me.

There’s a horse standing in front of the porch, and all my pride and contentment instantly vanish. That’s Tommy’s horse. I feel pinpricks going down my spine as I walk closer and closer. Why is he here?

I know he’s been trying to track down Abby ever since we got back, and I’ve been silently hoping he wouldn’t ever pick up a trail. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do if he _has_ found her. I’m not sure if I could be merciful a second time, really.

Apprehensively, I open the door. Tommy is talking with Dina when I walk in. She shoots me a dark glance when Tommy looks up to greet me, and I know that I’m not going to like what he has to say.

He leads me to the table and pulls out a map. “I’ve been putting out feelers for months now,” he says as he opens the map. “So this new guy heard my story, told me about a woman that he traded with while he was moving through California. Described her as built like an ox, traveling with a kid with scars across his face.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“He said they were living along this coast in a beached sailboat. Right here.”

I reluctantly glance at the place he’s indicating on the map.

“That’s gotta be her,” he says.

What am I going to say? I mean, I don’t want to go…but a part of me still does. A part of me isn’t done with this just yet. A part of me…no. No. I made my choice in the theater. I’m not going to change my mind now.

“Tommy…” I begin hesitantly. “I’m not…I can’t go after her.”

He’s silent for a moment. I can feel the temperature in the room dropping by the second.

“How so?” he asks. He’s trying to sound neutral, but the anger, the betrayal, is so obvious that it makes me wince all the same.

What the fuck should I do?

“It…she’s…”

“She killed Joel,” he interrupts me icily. “Are you just going to forget that because you have a nice and comfy life now?”

“Don’t you fucking _dare_ to suggest that I’ve forgotten that,” I say, fear now replaced by anger. Who the fuck does he even think he is?!

“Doesn’t fucking seem like it. Here I’ve finally managed to track that bitch down, and now you don’t want to go after her?” Tommy says, standing up.

“Last time I went after her, Jesse got killed. What if it’s you this time?” I ask.

“So? If I take her down with me, it’ll be worth it,” he says harshly.

“Yeah, I’m sure Maria will be _real_ understanding if her idiot of a husband gets himself killed halfway across the continent,” I reply.

“I can’t fucking believe you. If it had been you, Joel would have…”

“I fucking know!” I explode, standing up so quickly my chair falls over behind me. “I’m not him, okay? I can’t live up to him, I couldn’t save him, couldn’t avenge him, couldn’t do _shit_. Is that what you want to hear? Think of me what you fucking want. I’m not going with you,” I finish, softly now.

My vision is getting blurry but I angrily blink away the tears. I’m not going to give Tommy the satisfaction of seeing how much he got to me, dammit. Tommy stand up and looks at me coldly.

“Then I’ll do it on my own,” he says.

Without another word, he leaves the farm. I put my chair back on its legs and shakily sit down. Dina sits down in the chair next to me and puts her hands on mine. Normally it comforts me. Now I don’t feel anything.

* * *

For the thirtieth time, I switch sides. I just can’t fucking sleep. With angry sigh, I get up and walk over to my little workshop down the hall. It’s filled with all sorts of drawings, a desk…and my guitar. I close the door of the workshop, sit in the chair next to the window, and take the guitar out of its case.

I can’t really play anything, not without waking up Dina and Potato, but maybe just a few chords… I only need to strum the strings a single time to know that I can’t stay here. I don’t know how, but something in that warm, lingering sound seems to stir something within me. I have to help Tommy…just not in the way he thinks.

I stare out into the darkness. I can only vaguely make out the trees in the gloom. I hear the door of the workshop open, and Dina walks in.

“I have to go,” I say softly, without turning around to face her.

I know she’s going to hate this, and I brace myself for her reaction.

“To kill Abby? After you let her go?” she asks.

I shake my head, still not looking at her. I don’t want to meet her eyes right now. “No. To save her from Tommy.”

My insides seem to knot themselves up when I say that. Honestly, I don’t want to save her at all. I couldn’t care less if she died falling from a cliff or getting eaten by infected or getting shot by some idiots. But I just can’t let Tommy kill her. I can’t risk more people being lured to Jackson. I can’t risk anyone else losing people the way I lost Joel.

“Haven’t you done enough, though?” Dina asks.

She doesn’t sound angry anymore, just resigned. She already knows that she isn’t going to stop me.

Now, I finally turn around. I smile sadly at her. “I can’t risk it. I can’t risk anyone else coming after us. I hate her, Dina. I hate Abby for what she did. I will _never_ forgive her for what she did. But if allowing her to live will keep you and Potato and Tommy and Maria and everyone else in Jackson safe…then it’s worth it.”

Nice words. If only I could believe them myself.


	3. Santa Barbara

“2425 Constance…2425 Constance…” I mutter as I walk through the overgrown street. I look at the street sign, which has ‘Constance’ written on it. “Now we just need…”

“We checked this street a week ago,” Lev interrupts me. “I can’t believe you traded a pistol for this.”

“It’s a lead,” I say, though I’m honestly inclined to agree with him.

“No way that guy saw Fireflies over here,” Lev says.

“Stop. I feel good about this,” I say, smiling to reinforce the positive words.

Maybe if I pretend hard enough, it’ll actually come true. I can’t give up looking for the Fireflies. I owe it to Owen and Mel, at least, to keep looking. I don’t even really know what I’m going to do when I find them. It’s not like there’s much hope for finding a cure. The only immune person in the world, as far as I know, lives in Jackson. At least, I assume that’s where she went. I don’t really know why she let me go, in the end. She had me at gunpoint. But then, I could say the same thing about myself. And, anyway, fuck her. I don’t want anything to do with her ever again. I’m not going to tell the Fireflies where she is. I’ve lost more than enough of my friends.

Lev and I walk down the street, glancing at the house numbers as we walk. We should probably be more careful than we currently are, walking around here, since infected could still be lurking everywhere, but they haven’t really been much of a problem as of late. The area seems to have weirdly low numbers of them. Maybe that’s a sign that the Fireflies are here and clearing them out? Or maybe I’m just being way too optimistic. I don’t know.

On a nearby truck, I see a spray-painted logo of a skull with a coiled snake around it. I frown. That’s definitely not a Firefly symbol. Is whoever painted that still around?

“A demon, on our left!” Lev hisses, shaking me from my thoughts.

I look in the direction he’s pointing in, and I see the runner stumbling around. So, not completely cleared out after all, then. Lev and I quickly dispatch the runner, then a few more shortly afterward. I’m kind of amazed how good he is at it, at his age, but then again, he _did_ grow up in a weird cult. If we find the Fireflies, I’m sure they’ll be happy to let him join in as well. If he even wants to. I’m not too sure what his goals are, right now. His whole family is dead, too.

I feel a bit guilty for dragging him across the continent with me, but the thought of leaving him behind doesn’t sit well with me either. I mean, he can take care of himself, clearly, but still. He’s too young to be all on his own. And, anyway, it doesn’t seem like he’s got any problem with following me. I just hope I can vindicate his trust in me by actually _finding_ the Fireflies. After everything I’ve done wrong in my life, hopefully I can do this little thing right.

“There it is,” I say, pointing at one of the many almost identical-looking houses. “Be on your guard for infected,” I warn as we climb inside through a broken window.

He nods wordlessly, and we quickly search the house. The furniture is dusty and damaged, and it looks like it hasn’t been used in years. Is this really the right place? Have we come all this way for nothing? Fuck. I begin to search a bit more frantically. I just want to find something, _anything_ that can prove the Fireflies have been here.

“Abby, come look at this,” Lev says from the living room.

“You find something?” I ask as I walk over.

I might be sounding a bit too eager, but Lev doesn’t seem to notice it.

“Scratches,” he says, pointing at the floor next to a large bookcase.

I feel my heart starting to beat faster. Could it be? Was there a secret basement behind this bookcase? Honestly, even if it doesn’t turn out to be a Firefly base, I still consider it pretty cool that someone actually had this built in their house. Very supervillain of them. I take a deep breath, then begin pushing the bookcase. It slowly begins to slide aside, and from the corner of my eye I can see a staircase coming into view. Oh my God, there really _is_ a secret basement beneath this house.

Lev and I walk down the stairs. The air smells stale, and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been here in a while. But on the other hand, the basement is pretty big, and it was definitely used to house quite a number of people. Nothing about it overly screams ‘Firefly’, but it definitely might have been.

Then, in the back of the basement, I spot a workbench with a radio on it, and a power switch nearby. I wonder if it still works. I press the switch, and to my elation the lights actually come on.

“Guess they have solar,” I remark to Lev.

I walk over to the radio and briefly glance at the radio. I have no clue what the callsign of this place is, and I honestly don’t care. I key the mic.

“Is this frequency currently in use? This is Abby from Santa Barbara, is anyone out there?” I wait, and I notice I’m even holding my breath in anticipation. Sadly, I don’t get any response.

“What’s this?” Lev asks, holding up a clipboard.

I glance at it, and my heart skips a beat in excitement.

“Those are frequencies,” I reply, and I quickly begin to work down the list.

The first three give no reply, but on the fourth, I get a very clear response.

“Hi Abby, we’ve got a clear signal on you. Where in Santa Barbara are you calling from?”

I nearly trip over my own words in my haste to reply.

“2425 Constance. We, uh, we got a tip about a base, but there’s no one here. We’re looking for Fireflies. I’m a F- I’m a Firefly.”

“Where were you stationed?”

“I was part of the Salt Lake outpost.”

I can’t believe it; I’m actually talking to a Firefly! Everything’s finally about to be worth it!

“Who ran that facility?”

“Dr. Jerry Anderson. He was my dad.”

It’s silent on the other end for a moment. Then, “Well, how about that. We pulled everyone back from the satellite stations and brought them back here to home base.”

“How many of you are there?”

I can barely contain my excitement at this point. I just wish Owen could be here to join in as well.

“We’re about…two hundred strong now, with a few more every month.”

“You’re about to get two more. How do we find you?”

“Get to Catalina Island. Approach the large domed building in Avalon. We’ll find you.”

“Okay…okay…We’ll see you soon. Over and out.”

“Looking forward to it. Good luck, Abby from Santa Barbara. Over and out.”

I look at Lev, smiling wider than I think I’ve done in years. He still looks guarded, but I can tell he’s relieved all the same.

I walk up the stairs in a great mood…but some part of me, some instinct, warns me not to step outside carelessly.

“Lev, get down,” I say softly.

He instantly catches the change in my demeanor and obeys, crouching down low. I listen intently, trying to figure out what it is my instincts had picked up. Infected? Doesn’t seem like it. I recall the spray-painted symbol and frown.

“We’ll go out round the back,” I whisper. “Be ready to fight.”

I’m starting to get angry now. We’ve finally managed to find the Fireflies, and then we get ambushed by a bunch of idiots? Not going to happen. The sliding door into the garden is still open. Maybe we can climb over the garden shed into an adjacent yard. There might be infected there, but they’re easy to outwit. We step out into the garden, and I keep my eye on the fence that separates the gardens, to see if anyone’s climbing it. So far, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Come on, over the fence,” I say, keeping my voice down.

To my immense relief, the adjacent garden doesn’t contain any infected, nor are there people with guns waiting for us. But when I sneak around the house and glance out across the street, a shot rings out and hits the wooden wall right next to me.

“Fuck!”

I drop down into a prone position, trying to see where the gunman is.

“Get up, bitch! I’m not fucking done with you!”

I feel the blood freezing in my veins. No fucking way. That voice…Joel’s fucking brother. Hasn’t he fucking given up yet?! Fuck it. He doesn’t matter to me. I am _not_ dying within sight of my goal.

“Stay low,” I whisper to Lev. “As long as he can’t see us we should be fine.”

Easier said than done, though. Right now, Joel’s brother is standing between me and our boat. Somehow, I have to sneak by him, and I doubt that’s going to be easy. I remember how well he fought in Seattle. This guy isn’t someone I can take lightly. Fuck. I glance across the street. There’s a solid, metal dumpster there. I don’t think it’s going to last very long under sustained fire, but it might get us one house further down the street. If we can get into the garden there, we might be able to make it into the park and back to the boat. It’s a slim chance. I don’t even know if I’m going to make it across the street. But what choice do I have?!

“I’m going to run first and draw his fire,” I tell Lev. “Once you’re sure he’s shooting at me, run as quick as you can and hide behind the dumpster.”

“Are you insane? He’ll kill you,” Lev protests.

“He won’t,” I promise him, hoping I won’t turn out to be a liar. Well, if I _do_ turn out a liar, at least I won’t be around to experience the shame.

I take a deep breath and steel myself. Even if I get shot, there’s no way I’m letting Lev get hurt. I’m just about to begin running, when…

“Stop.”

I turn around quicker than I’ve ever done. Revulsion. Confusion. Then back to revulsion again. That’s what’s going through me as I look at the person now crouching behind me. I’d been so focused on getting past Joel’s brother that I hadn’t stopped to think about the fact he’d probably have _her_ with him.

I’m done. She’s too far away to lunge for, and she might shoot Lev if I so much as twitch in the wrong direction. I can see the hatred in her green eyes. I can’t imagine my own expression being much different.

“Here to finish the job, then?” I ask bitterly.

“No. I’m here to stop Tommy from killing you,” she replies in a tone that sounds like she’s about to puke.

“You…what?”

What the fuck is she talking about?

“I’m not doing this out of fucking kindness, okay?” she says angrily. “I’m just done with the constant cycle of killing, killing, and more fucking killing. I’m going to talk to him, you’re getting the fuck out of here, and I really, really hope I never have to see you again.”

Before I can even respond at all, she’s drawn a pistol and fired a shot into the air.

“That didn’t even go anywhere near me, dumb bitch!” Joel’s brother yells.

“It wasn’t fucking meant to, you stupid idiot!” Ellie shouts back at him.

“Ellie?! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Don’t fucking tell me you’ve teamed up with that crazy bitch!”

Ellie shoots one glance at me. “Fuck off. Now.”

Without waiting for a reply, she steps out into the street and begins to walk towards Joel’s brother. I have no fucking clue what her plan is or what she thinks she’s doing, but I am not wasting this opportunity.

“Lev, come on!”

“Just stop this bullshit already, Tommy!” I hear Ellie shout as Lev and I madly dash across the street, fervently hoping that Tommy will be distracted enough not to immediately open fire.

“You fucking traitor! You’re just letting her get away?! I fucking had her pinned down, and you’re just going to let her escape?!” Tommy shouts.

I should be escaping right now. I should just take Lev, sneak through the garden into the park, and get back to the boat. But a part of me just can’t resist staying to listen to what’s happening here. We’re on the right side of the street now. If anything seems like it’s going wrong, we can escape. But…for some reason, I just have to find out what’s going on here.

“Abby, come on, we have to go,” Lev says softly.

“Not just yet,” I reply.

“Yes, I’m letting her get away,” Ellie says. “Just like I let her get away from the theater.”

“You did fucking what?! You told me she escaped,” Tommy replies.

She never told him the truth? What the fuck?

“I did that because I hoped you’d let it go. Killing her isn’t going to bring Joel back, and you know it,” Ellie says.

“So she gets to remain unpunished for what she did?!”

“She’s hardly unpunished, though, is she? All her friends are dead. And she killed Joel because _he_ killed her father.”

“Don’t you go comparing Joel to…”

“And why not? Joel never claimed to be a saint. He never once claimed to be blameless. He did what he did to save _me_. Do you honestly think I could ever, _ever_ forgive the person who did that? If you do, you’re a fucking idiot. But Abby feels the same way about Joel as we do about her, and if we kill her now, who knows if Lev or someone else isn’t going to go back after us. It’s never going to end, Tommy.”

“It’s fucking worth it,” Tommy repeats.

“No it fucking isn’t! It’s only worth it until it ends up getting you or Maria or Dina or JJ killed. For fuck’s sake, I’ve already lost Joel. I don’t want to fucking lose you too!”

Her voice cracks when she says those last words.

Tommy remains silent for a long time. “Fucking fine. I’ll go back to Jackson. The bitch gets to live. But you’d better stay the fuck out of my way from now on,” he says eventually.

“Yeah. I’ll do that…”

There’s no way Tommy could hear that muttered reply. There’s no way that he could hear her resigned tone. She’s said the same thing to someone else, in the past, and I have the feeling that that person may have been Joel. Had they ever made up, before I…?

No. I don’t fucking care. I can’t afford to care. Joel deserved what was coming to him. Ellie deserves her pain too, for killing all of my friends. And I probably deserve the pain I feel as well. I’m not too sure this ‘mercy’ of hers might not end up being far more painful than if she’d just killed me, in the long run, but there’s nothing I can do about it now.

I glance at Lev. “Let’s get out of here.”


	4. Home

It’s like the farm hasn’t changed at all. The same grass, the same sheep, the same forest surrounding it. And, best of all, the same Dina and Potato waiting for me when I get back. It feels weird, coming home.

I traveled back with Tommy. We didn’t say a single solitary word to each other, all journey long.

I…I honestly don’t know if he’ll ever talk to me again. It feels awful, just like it did when I wasn’t talking to Joel. But that time, I was the one who didn’t want to talk. This time it’s him. Did Joel feel the same way? Did he also feel like he deserved it? As if he really _had_ made a terrible mistake? But he’d told me he would do the same thing again, if he had another chance. And I…I would probably also do the same thing. Probably. I don’t know.

I think Dina knows I’m not…completely home, yet, because she’s pretty quiet and she’s not trying to get me to talk about what happened.

I go up to my workshop, take out the guitar, and sit in the chair next to the window. What would Joel say about all of this? Would he approve? Would he hate me for not avenging him properly? I have no doubt that Joel would have killed anyone who harmed me. Tommy definitely wasn’t wrong on that account. Fuck, I still don’t know if letting Abby go, _twice_ , was the right call or not. It doesn’t feel like it, not one bit. But…if this means that Jackson is safe now, at least from crazy idiots like this…yeah, then it’s worth it. I begin to strum the guitar, those old familiar chords that Joel had taught me in a different life. “If I ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short ending, I know. But honestly, the whole story ended up much longer than I thought it would. Again, I wrote this in the middle of the night. It’s not going to be very polished, but if I didn’t finish it now I never would have finished it. See you next time!


End file.
